Viktor's breath scraped against her ear like gravel — the rhythm of his hips guttering from long strokes into something shorter, harder, meaner, each thrust punching a grunt out of his chest and a wet slap out of where they joined.
She could feel the change.
'That thick thing — shorter now, faster — the blunt head of it hitting the same deep spot over and over like it was trying to mark something.'
'My insides are going soft and hot and I can't —'
He pulled out.
Not finished — repositioning — his hands finding her thighs and folding her, pushing her knees up and forward until both legs were pressed against her own breasts, her calves over his shoulders, her body bent nearly in half under his weight.
Her hairy cunt tilted upward. Open. Presented.
She barely had time to register the new angle before he drove back in.
PAAAH!!
"AAGHH—!!"
